


All The Ways

by AHLICE



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHLICE/pseuds/AHLICE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>". . . In a boarding school full of nothing but men, sweat, and testosterone (even the teachers, to all the students’ dismay), Harry and Zayn only found refuge with each other. It was the best way to release tension built from lack of female attention; if Harry didn’t mind it, Zayn didn’t mind it, and so on and so forth. How else could they survive? (And that was their reasoning, and that was their final thought about this topic.)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Ways

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be a continuous, smut series of one-shots. Feedback is so greatly appreciated.

It was when all the boys in the other dormitories fell asleep that Zayn found his way over to a half-conscious Harry from his own bed, searching for the glossy, brown curls through the darkness of the room. It took him a few squints and blind gropes to find Harry’s broad shoulder; feeling his own breath hitch, he slowly kneaded his fingernails into the younger boy’s skin through the thin sheets. “ _Harry_ ,” he whispered, surprised at how urgent and loud his voice sounded in the deafening silence of the room. “ _Harry_.” He gave Harry’s shoulder another dig, only for the boy to groan, shift on the hard mattress, and then scrunch his face up.  
  
“. . . _Zayn_?” He muttered, eyes still closed. There was some confusion falling over him as he fought to wake his body and mind up; Zayn pressed one weary knee onto the side of the bed—the mattress gave a slight creak and caved in—while he worked his hand underneath Harry’s bed sheets and down his bare side. The feeling of the older boy’s cold fingers on his skin made Harry grimace and work to lazily slap the hand away, but his attempt was futile when Zayn stubbornly dug fingers into him again, answering Harry’s half-assed response with a, “You awake?”  
  
Growing adjusted to the darkness, Zayn could now see Harry’s sleepy, absentminded expression. He knew it was wrong to wake his dorm mate up after a long day of studying and football, but he had been looking at Harry all day and couldn’t wait until they went to rest that night to pounce him. Those bright green eyes whenever they narrowed in concentration . . that slight dip his back does when he walks, as if he wasn’t accustomed to his new grown body . . the way his entire face would light up whenever he laughed or smiled . . Zayn felt drunk and he knew the only way to sober up was to get what he had been dreaming of since the moment he woke up.  
  
Harry had never refused the advances from his dorm mate; they never spoke about what it really meant to shag another man, especially someone that was considered their best friend, but the less they really thought about it and the more they just _did_ , the less it bothered them. When they saw it as it was it was, of course, unlike them and just plain gay: the way they advanced one another and glanced at one another and even spent nights with one another. Though the silence about the entire situation kept it somehow under control, somehow maintainable.  
  
Besides, in a boarding school full of nothing but men, sweat, and testosterone (even the teachers, to all the students’ dismay), Harry and Zayn only found refuge with each other. It was the best way to release tension built from lack of female attention; if Harry didn’t mind it, Zayn didn’t mind it, and so on and so forth. How else could they survive? (And that was their reasoning, and that was their final thought about this topic.)  
  
When Harry turned his head to face Zayn, eyes still closed from sleepiness, the older mate caught his red lips with his own, hungrily slipping his tongue expertly into his mouth. Harry sucked in a sharp breath, let it out just as sharply, and twisted his body until he was lying on his back and letting Zayn take control completely. A haze of tired still shading his initial surprise, Harry slowly lifted his arms and found them around Zayn’s neck in no time. They kissed hungrily for a while, Zayn leaning more and more onto the sinking mattress until he was hovering over the brunette with his knees on both sides of his waist and hands twisted in those lovely curls.  
  
Harry was quickly losing air; he pressed into his pillow and spun his head to the side, opening his now-wet mouth to inhale heavily. The only sound in the dormitory were now their excited breathing, and Zayn took this opportunity to gaze down at the prize before him. Harry’s cheeks were now flushed a sweet pink, green eyes glazed, with lust nipping at the edges. The older mate raised a hand and pressed it to Harry’s chest, biting his lip and preparing himself for what was soon to come. When their eyes locked, Zayn smiled seductively, leaned closer to his dorm mate’s face, and whispered, huskily, “ _How do you want it, Haz_?” He felt Harry’s body tense, hips somewhat arching for friction, but Zayn’s own hips were too far for him to reach, so a short, desperate whimper escaped his lips as he kept his eyes on Zayn’s.  
  
Zayn let out an amused breath, smile spreading across his lips. He drew closer still, enough so that their noses ever-so-slightly brushed, and he continued with his taunts, again whispering, “ _Tell me, Hazza. Do you want me to fuck you good_?” That was when Harry’s face turned a deeper shade of that delicious pink, and he looked eagerly into the other boy’s eyes. He gave his head a very slight nod, raised his hands to feel Zayn’s disheveled locks, and replied with, “ _Please_ ,” in that deep voice of his before catching Zayn in another hungry kiss.  
  
This time Harry bit and used teeth and crushed their lips together, testing his luck at a rougher approach. Zayn easily reciprocated, biting and crushing and teething back while his hands worked down Harry’s chest and across his crotch, where an erection eagerly awaited any attention. When he held him firmly between his legs, Harry whimpered into his mouth, arching fore more, more, _more_. The older mate decided to play nice—at least in the beginning—and continued in his game of rubbing and grinding the palm of his hand against Harry’s restrained cock. More mewls and whimpers escaped Harry, one after another, and Zayn swore he could feel his own cock twitching beneath his drawers. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this until Harry’s haze of sleep passed instantly and he was just as excited—maybe even more—for some release.  
  
He then removed his hand, only for Harry’s hips to continue to arch. Harry pulled back and sighed at the lack of stimulation; he almost had the mind to palm himself, but he knew Zayn hated that and would stop him and oh _fuck_ why did he know all of this about Zayn already, like they had done this so much? Because maybe he had done this a lot— _they_ had done this a lot—and Harry was so accustomed to the bustle that he didn’t need to be told twice about anything when he was in bed with the older mate. While Harry tried to shake this troubling realization from his mind, Zayn let himself fall back onto the rear part of the bed and onto his bum. Harry sat up on his elbows to watch as Zayn removed his white nightshirt, lifted his lower body to shove off his boxers, giving way to an erection, all hard and flushed and leaking, and lowered himself back down onto the mattress.  
  
Zayn reached out, muttered a low, “ _Come_ ,” and Harry immediately crawled onto his hands and knees. Zayn grabbed at the back of the brunette’s curly head and beckoned him forward with that hand, closer and closer, until his red lips were inches away from his hard cock. He could feel Harry’s warm breath against his length, only making him wild with lust, and watched as Harry lifted his hungry, green-eyed gazed from the tip of his head and straight into his glossy eyes. That boy looked so hot in that position, Zayn thought, with his face all red, mouth all eager, eyes all wild. Unable to wait another second, he pulled the younger mate’s head even closer, telling him, “ _Hurry, mate_.”  
  
Harry took this as the signal to bring the head of Zayn’s cock into his mouth, sucking instantly and wrapping his tongue around as much as he could. It was so warm and wet and _god_ , this was driving Zayn insane already, and they had only just begun. He closed his eyes tightly to welcome the pleasure crawling up his abdomen, trying to suppress any groans while Harry bobbed his head up and down the length of his quivering cock. “ _Harry, Harry, fuck, Harry. . . !_ ” His voice raised and fell the faster Harry moved his head, pulling back to reveal the shiny, wet base, and then shoving forward to have it disappear again. His tongue worked the underside expertly, dragging up and down and then sucking with some sort of quick rhythm; Zayn thought briefly about how fucking good Harry was at giving head before he could barely do anything but roll his hips in the direction of that hot mouth and moan.  
  
The brunette attempted at a deep throat, to which he spontaneously gagged, choked, and let saliva dribble down his neck and towards his throat. But this didn’t stop his cause; Harry tried again and again to successfully get the entire length of Zayn’s erection into his throat, only to choke again, let more saliva free, and repeat the cycle. Holy shit—Zayn had no words to explain how great it felt. They hadn’t done anything in probably about a week, and he knew he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. But he didn’t want to cum just yet—no, no, no he wanted to feel all of Harry, hear Harry, taste and bite and drag his fingernails on every crevice of skin, leaving nothing unscathed.  
  
He grabbed a chunk of Harry’s hair and forced him back. Harry breathed in heavily, mouth still hung open and lips a beautiful cherry-color, a trail of spit connecting his bottom lip to the head of Zayn’s cock. His green eyes found Zayn’s brown ones, and he looked at him for any form of approval and disapproval, to which Zayn gave nothing but an astonished, pleased smile. “Wait,” he whispered to Harry before lifting himself off the bed, letting his wobbly knees get used to the weight, and then searching through his drawers.  
  
Harry waited eagerly, palming his own erection while he waited for Zayn to return. He was so hard already, and he didn’t think he could stand it much longer; but he knew he had to, he had to, because it’d be worth it in the end. He let out a soft groan. But oh _god_ this wasn’t cutting it for him. The lack of Zayn’s touch left him feeling like a virgin all over again, all hot and bothered and ready to explode in no time. Then Zayn returned with a bottle of lubrication and Harry started rocking into his hands, groping that erection that practically twitched at the sight.  
  
“Take it all off,” Zayn said as he used his free hand to shove Harry back onto the bed. The mattress creaked in protest as Zayn hovered himself over Harry again, whom was hurriedly kicking off his boxers and letting them drop to the planked floor. “Spread your legs,” he ordered, but not with mean intent. Harry, once again, did as he was told in lightening speed, holding his long, slender legs up from underneath his knees. Green eyes gazing lustfully at the older mate, he gave him silent approval to proceed. Zayn couldn’t help but smile at the expression as he flicked open the top of the lube bottle with his thumb fingernail and poured some onto his fingers, shivering with need.  
  
Harry braced himself by biting his swollen bottom lip and closing his eyes, waiting for the intrusion that was soon to come. Zayn slicked up his fingers the best he could while trying to keep himself under control, and then slicked up his erection, desperate for some more friction, or that warm mouth of Harry’s. But he knew he was going to get something much better than that mouth of Harry’s, no matter how good Harry was with his tongue. “You ready?” Zayn asked as a warning, only for Harry to open his eyes slightly and nod eagerly, and then close them again. He finally pressed an index finger to Harry’s entrance, waited, and then squeezed it in. The muscles contracted and Harry winced, but he remained diligent and stayed as he was, legs up and hands under his knees. Zayn persisted until he got his finger all the way in, and then repeated this with his middle finger, and then ring finger, scissoring and thrusting for Harry to grow accustomed to the feeling.  
  
After a short while of this, Zayn realized he couldn’t contain himself any longer. The entire room felt hot, as did his body, and he was beginning to hurt at how hard he was. And Harry seemed to feel the same, skin already lightly dusted with sweat and his erection standing tall against his lower stomach. “ _I’m going in now_ ,” Zayn’s voice was low as he pulled his fingers out and positioned himself over Harry. When Harry opened his eyes to look at the older mate, Zayn leaned down for a soft kiss, trying to distract Harry while the head of his cock pressed against his anus. Harry’s breath hitched, but he was otherwise normal, gently kissing Zayn back. “Ready?”  
  
“Yes—just _hurry_ ,” Harry’s voice was two octaves lower and needy. “ _Fuck me, Zayn . . ._ ” And that was it. Whatever hesitance Zayn had left had been snuffed out with those three words; he began to enter Harry, paused as Harry winced and tried to get over the feeling, and then proceeded again, slowly and carefully moving his hips forward. A gasp escaped Harry when the head of Zayn’s cock managed to get inside the overwhelming heat; it took all of Zayn’s energy not to just force himself the rest of the way.  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” Zayn gasped against Harry’s face as he made his way deeper and deeper inside until he made it completely. It felt so fucking good, so goddamn good, _fuck_ Zayn really wanted to just go crazy, but he knew it would hurt Harry, so he was taking deep breaths to calm himself. “I— _fuck_ —can I move?”  
  
Harry gave a little nod, face scrunched up and turning red, and that was enough consent for Zayn to roll his hips back, and then forwards in one smooth move, eliciting a low groan from the lad beneath him. He repeated this move, Harry groaned again, and he did it once more, only for Harry’s groan to carry out longer than the previous two. Harry grabbed at the base of his own cock as he tried to even his breathing, gasping, “ _You can go faster, Zayn, just—nnnh—go. . !_ ” This time Zayn pulled back, and then thrusted forward, sending a groaning Harry’s head dangerously close to the headboard. He did this again, except much harder than before, and Harry let out a little yelp, eyes widening. “ _Fuck—go!_ ”  
  
Zayn began to find his rhythm, pulling and shoving, pulling and shoving, while Harry whimpered, mewled his name, and sometimes let out prolonged groans, rolling his hips in time with Zayn’s thrusts. Zayn found his hands underneath Harry’s bum, leaning more into him and finding a good angle to fuck Harry deeply. When he made that first thrust in the new position, he felt Harry contract around him and back arch. “ _Zayn—oh my god—ay—nnngh—n!_ ” Harry’s moans were beginning to grow louder and louder the faster Zayn moved. Soon the springs in the bed was creaking underneath them and the top of Harry’s head was reaching the bed headboard as Zayn fucked him well, gasping his name while Harry gasped his back.  
  
“Shit, Haz, you feel so fucking good, Harry, shit, _oh_ ,” Zayn’s tongue felt loose, as did his entire body, as he drew closer and closer to his climax. He palmed Harry’s leaking erection, worked the shaft quickly and slightly rough, and listened as Harry groaned and pleaded for more, for him to go harder, faster, just _don’t fucking stop_.  
  
That was when Zayn lost it, ejaculation so hard his gaze faltered some and he couldn’t feel anything but the adrenaline and excitement filling his body. “ _Harry—fuck—!_ ” he gasped, still rolling his hips into Harry, trying to hold on to every bit of his climax. Beneath him, Harry took over working the shaft of his own erection, whimpering and letting his cheek fall onto his pillow, face flushed and eyes tightly closed. Zayn watched, still out of it, as Harry’s hips gradually moved faster and erratically as his breathing grew more and more ragged. It didn’t take much longer for cum to leak from the head of his cock and onto his stomach; he let out a low sound from the back of his throat, arched his back as far as it would go, and muttered a soft, “ _Zayn—god_ ,” as he ejaculated.  
  
Momentary silence, aside from the panting boys, raised in the dark of the dorm. Zayn gathered his strength to pull out of Harry, and he let himself drop onto the part of the mattress next to him, arm and leg draped lazily over the younger lad. Harry’s legs dropped and his entire body felt like jello; a numb was already growing from the aftermath of his fucking, the worst part of it all.  
  
They said nothing as they attempted to catch their breaths. As the euphoria of the climax faded, the heavy feeling of what they had just done hung over their heads. It was the common ritual: lust, fuck, regret it after. Harry didn’t know why he loved it so much—he just did. The stimulation, the breaths, the hands on his body and, just, _everything_. His eyes flickered over towards Zayn, who’s eyes were screwed shut. His face was glossy from sweat, and his shoulders were rising and falling as if he were trying to get himself to fall asleep.  
  
Harry let the silence hang for a moment longer before he looked up at the roof and asked, voice hoarse, “You think anyone heard us?” When Zayn didn’t respond fast enough, he feared the worst, but finally Zayn’s voice came, and he assured, vaguely, that no one heard, and that they were all asleep. Harry attempted a frown, although he felt too exhausted to even manage that. “You sure?”  
  
“Don’t worry, Haz,” Zayn said tiredly. “Go to sleep.”  
  
Harry gave a nod, despite the fact that Zayn couldn’t see him, and agreed silently. “Yeah. Goodnight.” He felt dirty, and cum remained in his anus, but the showers were long closed, so he knew he had to wait until morning.  
  
Zayn tried at a smile. “Goodnight.”  
  
They fell into uncertain and worried slumber, knowing that only tomorrow could tell the future.


End file.
